Walking Appetizer
by Battus philenor
Summary: GS- Response to the weekly challenge on Unbound


Title: Walking Appetizer  
  
Author: Battus philenor  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them every once in awhile.  
  
A/N: Response to the weekly Unbound challenge where the first and last lines are given. Also, while she did not beta this (so don't blame her for my errors) I would like to thank Marlou for her moral support.  
  
Grissom approached the tomato warily. As if the faint wrinkles in its skin and the dark red coloring weren't disconcerting enough; there was also not much of the fruit visible from between their victim's lips.  
  
Pulling a print from the half rotten vegetable would be difficult, but hopefully not impossible. Sara whispering that his failure was imminent was not helping his concentration or his confidence.  
  
"Sara, this _is_ a case. I'm not sure I like you placing odds on my ability to gather a particular piece of evidence, plus the distraction is... distracting and not at all ethical, or becoming."  
  
"I'm just trying to keep you on your game Gris. Just consider yourself the away team. If you're as good as you claim to be, what I say, or don't say shouldn't have any affect on your skills."  
  
Glancing up through squinted eyes, the corner of his mouth raised uncontrollably as he noticed her smirk. Turning back to the task at hand, the veil of full work concentration slipped back over his face; brow furrowed, tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and head tilted to one side in contemplation.  
  
"Well I think the flesh is too rotted for the tomato to survive me pulling it out of the victim's mouth first. I think I'll tent and fume his whole head. We may get lucky and get a print off his face as well. I'm almost certain this was stuffed in there post mortem."  
  
"See, now you're in the zone." Flashing him a quick smile, she left him to his own devices so she could finish taking in the rest of the scene.  
  
Glancing up quickly Grissom watched her ass sway as she walked to the other side of the room. Even clumsily trying to avoid the groceries which were scattered all over the floor, she still managed to look sexy.  
  
Purposely shaking his head as if trying to dislodge the images of her, he attempted to turn his attention back to his task at hand. With David hovering and scribbling in his notepad, Grissom began the process of tenting the corpse's head.  
  
Certain he had secured the tent closely enough for the fumes to be effective; he set up the small device and started the fuming process. Letting his mind and eyes drift back to Sara's backside, he lost all track of time. David's nervous throat clearing pulled him out of his daydream of Sara.  
  
Turning he saw that the time had come to see if the fuming had worked. Removing the apparatus, he could see the white print standing proudly against the dark skin of the tomato. Sara was at his side with the camera at the ready to capture his accomplishment.  
  
"I didn't doubt you for a minute," she said warmly, with what sounded like a hint of admiration in her voice.  
  
With his chest puffing, he found himself hoping that maybe it wasn't too late to pursue her after all. Allowing himself to bask in her admiration a little longer, he decided that perhaps he would try to do just that after work.  
  
Feeling better than he had in months, Grissom let David remove the body as he assisted Sara with the rest of the scene. Failing on more than one occasion to watch what he was doing, losing himself in the brunette by his side.  
  
The closer they got to finishing gathering the evidence, the more nervous Grissom grew thinking about asking Sara out. As they started carrying items out to the truck, he was once again so caught up in staring at the wiggle in her walk which was right in front of him, that he failed to pay attention to the groceries on the floor.  
  
The sensation of his foot coming down on an object which immediately began to roll, was his first sign that he was about to make a complete ass out of himself. The soda can; which had been cataloged along with the rest of the groceries earlier, slid along the floor with half of his body weight going with it.  
  
His field kit which was in one hand, and the bag of evidence which was in the other, both went flying as his arms flailed out to either side of his body attempting to grasp anything within reach.  
  
Gripping only air with his hands, both feet suddenly flew out in front of him and he realized he was about to land hard on his ass. His right hand landed in lunch meat which smelled fairly foul after sitting on the floor for a few days, as his left hand busted open a few bags of snacks.  
  
Sara turned just in time to see bits of pretzels and cheese nips fly around his head like confetti. Watching his face contort she raced to his side to make sure he was ok.  
  
Overcome with embarrassment, he lowered his red face realizing that he now resembled a very large party platter. Having Sara witness this ego bruising episode, he suddenly thought it might take a few months to work up enough courage before he would ever be able to entertain the idea of asking her out.  
  
Seeing that he was physically ok, Sara began cleaning spoiled lunchmeat and chunks of chips off of his body. Pulling a tissue from her pants pocket she gently wiped the slimy meat from his hand causing him to study her face closely.  
  
She didn't laugh at him or leave him there to clean up his own mess - she was picking _meat_ off of him! The care and concern on her face chased away most of his embarrassment, an unusual confidence replacing it. Grabbing her hand he looked in her eyes.  
  
"You know, I wanted to ask you to dinner, but this wasn't really what I had in mind."  
  
Looking up she saw through his humor to the seriousness in his eyes as he continued holding her hand.  
  
"Well, I hope not. I don't want _any_ meat for dinner Grissom, but rotten meat is a _huge_ turn off."  
  
"Trust me Sara, after rolling around in it; we'll be going to a vegetarian restaurant."  
  
She chuckled as he picked debris from his beard.  
  
End  
  
Battus philenor 


End file.
